The Shops

In the 3-plus weeks I've been here, I've grown out my beard. I'd
brought an electric trimmer with me, but failed to notice that the
adapter is for 120V, whereas Ethiopia is 220V. My face was getting a bit
overgrown, so I asked Dereje if he knew a shop that would carry an
adapter that might fit my trimmer. I tagged along and we went to the
shops just before lunch. The third place we checked looked promising.
They had a 220-110V transformer that I could plug my existing adapter
into, but we tried it out at the shop and it wasn't charging at all. It
had started raining a little, so we ran to the next shop. Just as we got
there, it was starting to come down pretty hard, but we managed to avoid
getting drenched. Luckily that place had an adapter with various plugs,
and one that fit my trimmer. We tried it out and the little red light on
the trimmer came on and everything. By the time Dereje was done haggling
with the shopkeeper, the rain had stopped, so I passed over 50birr and
we headed out, mission accomplished. Later, back at the hotel, I got a
full charge and put it to the test. It's nice to feel a little more
civilized now.

Lights Out

The power went out this evening. That happens from time to time, so it's not much of a surprise, like, "We've lost power Captain!" but more of a "Oh, the library's closing in 10 minutes" kind of thing. The generator was on at the hotel soon enough, but we were all just about to go out to dinner. We ended up grabbing a taxi and heading over to Gati Thai, which was absolutely packed despite the fact that the place was candle-lit on account of the power outage. We took the last open table, and ordered up some tom kah soup and green curry fried rice, both with chicken, and fish pad thai, along with a few St. George beers. Great food, as usual there. On the way back, the lights on Bole Road were glowing, so we walked the 10 minutes back and stopped at the grocery store on the way to pick up a few things. It's nice to be back in the center of town.

Moving Day

Yesterday I moved to a hotel in the center of town. I decided that for
my last 3 weeks here, it would be nice to be near all the shops and
restaurants of Bole Road. I'd taken a look at this hotel before, but
this is my first time to stay here. So far my impression is pretty good.
It has more of a small-apartment layout with a separate kitchen, whereas
the last room I had was more like a studio apartment with bad furniture.
The downside is that they don't include breakfast here (no more french
toast and coffee in the morning, sadly), but there is a fruit stand
nearby that I bought a bunch of bananas at last night, and they serve
coffee and macciatto at our office. The upside is having a kitchen
table, a desk with a desk lamp, a properly functioning television
remote, and a view of trees and greenery instead of the ring road and a
bus stop. Not to mention, I get more time in the mornings since it's
closer to the office.

The Switch

In the movie Daddy Day Care, Eddie Murphy is befuddled when one of the kids asks him, "Where to babies come from?" It's a question that we only know how to answer with the crudest of mechanics. Some parents might scramble to answer by saying something like, "We asked God for you and 9 months later, you arrived."
So imagine if a child asked you where the light in a light-bulb comes from: "Well, the electric company sends light... then we send them money." How far would most of us get in explaining the crude mechanics? Some people could piece together the basics of combustion, that magnets somehow assist in transforming that into electrical energy. However, the truth is that most of us don't pay any attention to it. Light comes from flipping the switch.
However, ask a kid in Ethiopia where electricity comes from, and they won't point to the light switch. They are likely to bring you around to their generator. There are still frequent power outages in Ethiopia, and with unreliable electric supply from "the grid", flipping the switch sometimes results in...nothing. As a result, many households and almost every business has a generator.
The training center here recently installed a large generator donated by Japan. One of the electro-mechanical engineers, Mulaku, made a new panel to switch from the grid to the generator when necessary, and the other day he showed me the well-crafted wooden box with two new switches inside. "This one is for the grid--you see, it's on now--and this one is for the generator."
The generator looks like a huge blue box, maybe 15 feet long, with the engine on one end and the transformer on the other. My experience with engines is limited to starting the lawn mower, so I asked Mulaku if he wouldn't give me a crash course on how it worked. He brought me over to the control panel and explained how to check the 3-phase circuit, which knobs to twist and levers to pull. Then he said, "this generator operates at 35% of capacity to supply 35,000 watts of power to the center. The previous generator was operating at 98% capacity, so over the years, it became damaged." He then further simplified the explanation by comparing it to a donkey, of all things. "If you make the donkey carry too much, it can't move. But give it a lighter load, and it will be able to travel far and work for many years. This donkey will too."
So much for horsepower. But I feel like I gained some insight into the real differences in infrastructure that make a country "developed". Ethiopia will probably need nuclear power in order to develop reliable, nationwide electric power, and anyone who reads the news knows there are complications to that. So people here will continue to flip the switches to their generators before flipping on the lights. Although, considering the fertility rate here is one of the highest in Africa (at 5.29), maybe they don't mind foregoing the lights some evenings.

Half Road, Half River

Heavy rain on a Saturday morning, the cars driving along the road have
lost the option of driving on the right half, lest they are driving a
boat. It is a veritable river with a current, covering up pot-holes and
other potentially damaging obstacles. At turnoffs, the cars slow to a
crawl and wade through with trepidation.

16th Day of Ramadan

Yesterday I was speaking with one of the coordinators here who is taking
part in Ramadan. He said his family usually eats around quarter to 7,
around sunset, and then goes to worship. I asked him if the large meal
is shared with anyone outside his immediate family, and he told me, yes,
it is very common to invite neighbors as well as those who are less
fortunate. I told him that when I was in university, the Muslims on
campus invited me to their Ramadan dinner once. Maybe I was seen as a
poor person? He laughed (as intended) and said, no, it is a time for
community and share with those around you. "When we pray at the Mosque,
a rich man prays next to a poor man. There is no division in the eyes of
God."
Another colleague of mine piped in to ask if children also practice
Ramadan by fasting, but the coordinator said only when they are old
enough. His 10 year old son has started fasting this year, but will do
it only on alternate days.

Crash Boom Bang

Last night I ordered room service for dinner: vegetable cream soup and
the house salad. But then I figured I might as well order something and
bring it for lunch the next day, so I called back and had them add a ham
and mushroom pizza. I also had them bring up some hot tea. Why not?
Anyway, about 30 minutes later there was a knock on the door, and one of
the girls from the restaurant brought in a huge tray. She placed it on
the desk and began unloading it. First the massive pizza, then what
turned out to be quite a large salad. When she went to lift the soup, it
was "stuck" to the cloth covering the tray. Some of the soup must've
spilled and dried at the base of the bowl. The tea was also on the tray,
so she had no choice but to set the bowl back down, detach the cloth,
and put the soup on the desk--done successfully.
The only problem was, that in doing so, she had shifted the tray so that
it wasn't entirely on the desk. You can guess what happened next. With
the tea set on the wrong end, the try went up and over and crashed to
the floor. The girl's shoes and the floor were covered in tea, but
luckily there were no injuries...and she'd somehow managed to save the
sugar bowl! A mop and 5 minutes later, I had a new cup of tea, and all
was well.

Icebreaker

The public speaking club Toastmasters has clubs all over the world, including in Addis Ababa. The club is on summer break right now, but will start up again in a couple weeks. The club meets every Wednesday, so I should be able to attend one or two meetings, depending on if they start before or after the Ethiopian New Year, which falls on the second Saturday next month (previously on the "logical" Ethiopian calendar here). Last year I introduced the secretary at the training center to the club, and she is a regular member now, along with her sister. Yesterday we were talking about the club and I was encouraging her to give her "icebreaker" speech, since she hasn't gathered up the courage to give her first speech yet. We talked about how everyone gets nervous before a speech, but she also admitted that in the back of her mind, she's pretty sure she could do better than a lot of people in her club. I'm pretty sure she would do a great job too, but she was worried that her mind would go blank (even though she'd be allowed to use notes) or, "I-I don't know. Something will happen."
It's often said that public speaking is feared more than death. And that irrational level of fear will afflict some people more than others, but at my Toastmasters club I've often found that those who are most terrified, are actually quite talented. It doesn't have to do with your actual ability, but the higher your expectations are for yourself, the greater your fear will be. It might take people some time to get past the fear and fulfill their potential, but in that sense, being scared that "something will happen" is probably a sign of greatness.
In the end, I told her that I'd try to find a copy of my own "icebreaker" speech, and we talked about how she could talk about the 3 years she lived in India. I also told her I'd be happy to look over a draft if she'd write one up. She said she'd try and set a goal to give the speech in the next month. So, I'm not sure I'll be here when she does, but once she gets past her fear, I'm sure she'll be a contender to reckon with.

Me-eh

I decided to have lunch at the training center today, although I arrived a little late. I sat with the Japanese personnel, and although they had finished already, they sat with me and drank coffee while I had my lunch. The restaurant only has two meal choices: spaghetti or injera. Their spaghetti makes you wonder if it's from a rejected 1984 food aid package (yes, it's that bad), so I ordered the injera. It was bege kai wat injera, meaning mutton served with a red stew/gravy on a sourwheat crepe. Actually, despite my thumbs-down for the pasta, they are pretty good at their own local dishes. The injera is soft and spongy, like it's supposed to be, and the red stew is rich and slightly spicy, with bits of mutton. They also include a big hunk of backbone meat (on-the-bone) which you have to pick up with your hands and gnaw on. While I ate, one of the guys commented on how you can't get such fresh ingredients back home. As I tore off another chunk of meat dripping with red gravy, he said proudly, "I actually saw them kill that sheep this morning," and then added, "I turned my head when I heard a me-eh!" He went on to describe what he saw, but I'll spare you the rest. Even so, I didn't let it stop me from finishing my meal--afterall, it's true that it's probably better quality here than you could get back home. Plus, I know they buy from a proper butcher nearby, but, meh, it was still an entertaining story.

Everybody has their medicine

I recently found out that our mechanical engineering expert has been
maintaining his own digestive system regularly by taking anti-bacterial
medicine twice a month for a week at a stretch. He says that he always
does this when overseas (he divides his time between Ethiopia and Burma
throughout the year). "Just breathing in the dust, or picking up germs
between washing your hands and sitting down to eat. You touch something,
right? Even the little bit of water from a freshly washed drinking glass
or brushing your teeth... it all adds up. So I take these pills, which
are rather mild, and I've never had a problem." Apparently he has a good
relationship with his doctor, who will prescribe these meds in large
enough quantities for him. They are supposed to flush out the "bad
bacteria", and by only taking them half the time, I suppose he doesn't
grow dependent on them. I don't think most other consultants I work with
do this, but you never know. Another consultant told us last night over
dinner that his health regiment includes drinking six beers at dinner to
relieve stress. When everyone else looked a bit surprised, he added that
he makes sure not to drink whatsoever at lunch or in the mornings, even
on the weekends, so he doesn't become dependent. However, another
consultant chimed in, appropriately, "Well, people usually don't drink
in the morning and afternoon." Standing firm in his convictions, Mr.
Six-pack responded, "In France they do, and wine has a higher alcohol
content." For my part, I didn't tell anyone that I blog to relieve
stress, nor that I sometimes do it in the morning and afternoon. But I
am thinking it's not such a bad idea to take anti-bacterial meds
semi-regularly while I'm here.

Hotel Staff

There are a few new staff at the hotel restaurant this time, and they are really nice. After my run-in with the bad tuna, I hadn't gone to breakfast on Friday or Saturday morning. When I went down to have a light lunch, one of them asked, both with a smile and concern in his voice, "Sir, are you okay? Why you didn't come for breakfast?" They still seem a little concerned because I've been ordering tea instead of coffee--it's a real test of strength to resist Ethiopian coffee for a week!

You Said It

I've been paying 30 birr for taxi rides into town lately, and pretty much accept that as the regular price that I'm going to pay (I've unknowingly paid 50 before). Knowing the right price, of course, makes it a lot easier to haggle, but I think I've got it just about right. Since the outcome is always the same, the major difference is how long you argue with them before you settle on 30.
I walked up to a taxi driver (they hang out on the corner) and told him where I wanted to go.
"How much?" I asked.
"Fifty," he says.
I pause, then offer, "How about twenty?"
His eyes widen a little and he mentions this to his friend standing next to him. He looks back to me.
I say, "It's not that far. Just over there."
Then he explains, "Well, you see, we take people all the time for 30 or 40." ...I'd somehow managed to get him to utter the word thirty first! Amazing!
"Okay, 30 it is!" I exclaimed, and practically jumped in the car before he did.

Family Restaurant

After I passed through Bob's arcade, I still had a good 45 minutes before the movie started, so I decided to try Bob's Bites Family Restaurant. I walked up to a guy who looked like the manager (Bob?) and asked for a menu. He brought me one and showed me a table. I sat down and perused what they had on offer, then asked him what was on the Bob's Club. He said, "Okay, yes, the club. And to drink?" When overseas, I've often found that it's not worth asking too many questions, so I just went with it and ordered a cold Ambo mineral water.
But despite his initial poor hearing, Bob turned out to be quite a good waiter/manager: when a young toddler started yelling, he gave her a smile and a little wave, which seemed to calm her down. He brought my Ambo out with another plate that had a few napkins and a salt shaker on it, and soon after, my sandwich. The Club was absolutely enormous--two full sandwiches cut in half--with two huge mounds of fries. After eating half of it, I surrendered. Bob came by and asked if I'd like the rest "take out". He took the sandwich over to the front counter and using tongs to carefully place them in butcher paper and then in a plastic bag. I paid my bill and walked past families sitting around big pizzas, enjoying their Sunday afternoon. I decided that Bob's Bites might be a goofy name, but it was a nice side of Ethiopia to see.

Family Fun at the Mall

I went down to Matti Multiplex at Edna Mall to catch the movie Salt, but had about an hour to kill before showtime. Most of the mall was actually closed, so I went down to the first floor and took a walk through  "Bob's Bongo's Fun Palace"! They had martial arts fighting video games, sports games, and lots of driving games, like "Hummer", where young kids get to climb up into a Hummer-shaped console and drive through cityscape courses against the clock. There were also younger kid games, like "Rust-eze", a Lightning McQueen lookalike, that shifted back-and-forth, much to the delight of the small passenger. There were also real, live bumper cars, a Wheel of Fortune-like game, and a stupendous ride called "Space Bounce" which hurtles 6 kids up a tower and then bounces them down laughing and whooping. Afterward, watching the movie, with the car chases and fight scenes, I felt like it was a bit like Bob's, but with a Russian conspiracy added to the family fun.

Matti Multiplex

It's great to have a real cinema in town. They have three theaters, one of which can show 3D features. There's a concession stand that sells popcorn and soda pop. And hanging out in front of the cinema are guys selling pirated DVDs of past features!

Kind Coworkers

Although I've mostly recovered from my bout with bad tuna, I've been
careful not to eat anything too heavy or greasy today. I went down to
the hotel restaurant for lunch and ordered their vegetable soup and a
sandwich along with some hot tea. After about 20 minutes, one of my
coworkers asked if he could join me and also ordered a sandwich. We had
a good time eating our lunch and talking into the afternoon. When I got
back to my room, another coworker called and said he was out in town and
would bring me some fruit later. He just came to my door with a bag of
apples, a big bunch of bananas and a quart of mango juice. "You're
looking a lot better today. Get some rest tomorrow and hope you're
better by Monday." All this on top of the fact that our driver Dereje
called me at 10 this morning to see if I'd need anything today and to
just give him a call and he'd drive me. Although rest and hot tea has
helped me recover, the kindness I'm receiving is sure helping me feel
better.

Hold the bus

This morning I glanced out the window and saw a guy running down the
road with his hand up in the air trying to signal the bus to wait for
him. The bus started to go and his pace slowed ever so slightly, but
still holding his hand up in the air, hoping. Then, the bus stopped
again and he caught up.

3 Birr Tea

I didn't have any tea bags, but wanted something more than just hot
water to drink, so I ordered up a cup of tea from the hotel restaurant.
So far this tea bag is on cup number 5 and still going strong! Anyway, I
didn't have any small change for my 3 birr cup of tea (about .25 cents)
and had to give them a 100 (about $8), apologizing that I didn't have
anything smaller. A few minutes later I got a phone call from the front
desk that they didn't have enough small bills to make change and I could
either pay later or wait, and they would bring me the change as soon as
they could. Knowing they would be able to make change sooner than I
would, I said I'd wait. Well, a few hours later, a knock on my door, and
a pile of 10 and 1 birr bills. They are not crisp new bills, but dark
and worn from being passed along many times. 100 birr bills never look
like this.

Unpleasant Aftermath

I had an unexpected day off today. I needed to get some sleep and
recuperate after waking up at 4:30am and puking. Seems that the pasta
sauce I made on Wednesday night went bad at some point between then and
Thursday night--I suspect the tuna was the culprit. Although things had
been refrigerated, all ingredients have their limits. Luckily, the
discomfort didn't last too long and I'm feeling better now having nursed
myself with tea and some medicine. It meant that I had to miss out on a
dinner with my colleagues tonight at the Golden Dragon, but I knew there
was no way I was going to be able to stomach boiled fish balls or mutton
tonight. People were understanding of my cancellation though, and one of
them delivered anti-bacterial meds to me with kind get-well-soon wishes.

Kitchen Origami

Although I have a kitchen in the room I'm staying in, and it comes
equipped with some pots and pans and the like, there are no oven mitts.
It wasn't something I thought to bring with me from Japan either. A lot
of pots and pans at home have heat-resistant handles that don't make
them necessary, but the pot I'm using here, even to boil water for tea,
looks like a simple bit of tin or aluminum. All I know is that the
handles on the thing get hot, and how to pour hot water for tea if you
have to wait for the pot to cool? I used to use a pair of socks, but
recently I've found a new solution that is just as effective. I took two
long slips of paper used to request laundry services and folded them a
few times. Then I slip the folded pieces of paper through the handles.
It works surprisingly well, and saves me from having to drape old socks
on the cabinet drawer handle.

Road to Mekele

It always amazes me that everyone seems to know the almost exact distance to different towns in Ethiopia. I suppose the country is not all that big, but when people say, "it's 345 kilometers to" such-n-such town, you wonder if they have some kind of internal map program. However, the real start to understanding the phenomena is to understand that the number of major roads in Ethiopia is extremely limited. Today, driving in the north of town, my driver pointed to a road merging on to ours and said, "that's the road that goes up to Dessie and Mekele". I looked over at the road. It seemed like a rather insignificant little side street to me, but that's when I realized that there are no "insignificant" roads leading into or out of any city or town in Ethiopia. I remembered a while back, in the town of Bahir Dar, when I wasn't allowed to take a picture of the Blue Nile because the bridge was guarded by armed lookouts. The reason for the ban was, if anyone were to damage the bridge, it would only leave one other road out of town and increase the travel time to the capital by an extra day!

Highway Puddles

The ring road that runs along the city, past the airport and down to the
south of the city was constructed some years ago to great fanfare.
Unfortunately, when it rains, the drainage isn't sufficient enough to
prevent large highway puddles from forming in certain sections. A few
times today, we had to slow down, get in single-file line on one side of
the road, and roll through the puddles at their shallowest end. It was
deep enough that I was glad we were in a Land Cruiser; even though cars
seemed to be clearing well enough, on the worst days I wouldn't be so sure.

Groceries

No, this has nothing to do with Elizabeth Gilbert... I just ran out and bought a kilo each of plum tomatoes and red onions for 19 birr (about $1.50). On the way home, I also picked up a half dozen jumbo eggs and a half pint of "excellent quality!" yogurt for about a dollar. Add this to the stuff I bought on Sunday, and I'm feeling stocked (although I am running low on Nutro tea biscuits).
When I paid for my groceries today, both times I ran into a classic communication problem, thanks to the similarity in pronunciation between, say, 13 or 30. For a native speaker, this may be clearly distinct, but non-native speakers must often overstress either word to make sure they are understood. At the veggie stand, the guy overcame this by saying, "one, nine". I figured it must be 19, and happened to have exact change. But then, walking back to the hotel, I began to wonder... wait, maybe it was 1.90?!? That'd be a little too cheap for 2kg of vegetables though--about 19 cents--but I'd overpaid for a phone call in China a couple years ago that way, so I knew it could happen.
Just to make sure, I asked at the front desk, "Hey, I just went shopping. What would you pay for this?" The receptionist told me she'd be happy to send one of the hotel staff to buy groceries for me next time if I felt I was getting inflated prices, which was nice to hear, but I still wanted to know what she'd pay. She quoted a price 30 cents cheaper than what I paid; a respectable margin for error and enough proof for me that I paid reasonably. Although, now that I know I have the option, I might send the bellboy to buy tomatoes next time if I happen to be feeling regal that day (..and I can't help but to note that his tip would be about 30 cents anyway). 
But for now, I'd better get in the kitchen and whip something up for dinner! Wish me luck.

Shangri-La Restaurant

Today we took some of the local staff out to lunch at an Ethiopian restaurant named Shangri-La. These days, a lot of Ethiopians are doing a two-week fast (Christians, mainly, although Muslims are now in the midst of Ramadan), so they only eat or drink after 12 (those who adhere strictly wait until 3). During this time they are not taking any meat (nor alcohol, tobacco, etc), but recently the Church said that fish is permissible if people so choose. Since most of the guys ordered fish or pasta, I decided to also have fish and ordered asa goulash, which is chunks of boneless Nile perch lightly breaded and roasted, and covered in a sauce of tomato, onion, green pepper and a dash of berber spice. The other guys had asa kotalit (a fish fry) and dishes of spaghetti, along with a few bottles of Pepsi or lemon-lime Mirinda. The food was great, but everyone was looking forward to the coffee afterward, since they said Shangri-La makes some of the best coffee in town. Later, the waiter puts a dish of etan incense on the table--traditional when serving coffee in Ethiopia--and then serves the cups of "black gold". Indeed, it was coffee fit for a place named after paradise.

Square Animals

I went to the grocery store on Sunday and picked up some Nutro Tea Biscuits®. I'd had these last time I was here and had almost forgotten how good they are, but this time it hit me that they are actually just square animal crackers (and, who knows, maybe Barnum carves his out of Nutro). The package says the serving size is "5 biscuits", which means I've eaten almost 3 servings. They are exported out of Dubai and apparently have zero nutritional value. Although the ingredients don't say they contain Doritos®, they are just as addictive. Incidentally, I should have made tea; they're not called grapefruit juice biscuits for a reason.

Eye-opener

On Monday, my colleagues and I decided to head over to Sangam for some good Indian curry. I hadn't been to Sangam for a while, and never before for lunch. They have a thali lunch set where you can select two curries, either vegetarian or non-vegetarian, but they didn't have a selection for one of each. Instead, we decided to order a few dishes and share, so we had the mutton curry, the chicken curry, and the mattar paneer curry, (i.e. green peas and soft cottage cheese). I also ordered a vegetable biryani rice and some plain naan for the table, so we ended up with quite a lot of food, as well as a bit of variety.
During the meal, my colleagues told me that India had long been the place to visit as a college kid in Japan. The reasoning was that India would be a real eye-opener to the world; you could see just about anything. As an example, he said he'd heard of guys in India that climbed up a tree and lived there for years, although he wondered how they ate. Neither of my colleagues had been to India (although they've been to lots of other places, including Bangladesh, which is pretty darn close), but since I went when I was in college, I could attest that India had been a real eye-opener. I didn't see any guys living in trees, but I did see some interesting people gather for the Ramlila in Varanasi, including some holy sadhus--men who have renounced all attachments to live out their lives in spiritual practice--who emerged from the forests with their uncut, scraggly hair knotted up atop their heads and long, slopping beards with bits of who-knows-what nested in them (see Wikipedia for a visual). They were certainly some of the most colorful characters I'd ever seen, and it was electrifying to find myself sitting with them in a grassy field, with the Maharaja on his lavishly decorated elephant a few meters away, watching an open-air performance of the Ramayana near the Ganges River.
These memories came back as we finished our lunch and had some hot masala chai. The Indian subcontinent remains one of the most interesting places on earth, I reckon, although I would venture to say that the Horn of Africa has its fair share of eye-openers. Unless you don't consider a tribal cow jump to be just the slightest bit out of the ordinary.

Behind the scenes

Another one for the "you-never-know" file:

I was sitting in the main office waiting for the Head of the Center to finish his phone call. He was speaking in Amharic, so there was little for me to eavesdrop on, and instead I spent the time glancing around the room. Behind his desk is a massive bookshelf filled with thick, 2-ring binders. Many of them were annual files on the courses taught here, some financial reports, but a few of them were titled "Consultants". This is a long-term project, so some of those binders indicated a year, such as "2006-2008", but one of them in particular caught my eye as the title down its spine simply read, Concultants. There was no year specified, so I hope that's not an indication that they are referring to those here at present! Maybe there is an underground group of concultants that I don't know about who are influenced by lunar powers, holding secret meetings around a cauldron of steaming kai wat and chanting in ancient Coptic robes. But I had to shake the idea out of my head and tell myself it must be a simple spelling mistake, and that what the Head of the Center was saying on the phone in a tongue utterly incomprehensible to me did not have to do with little dolls, pins and needles.

Secret stash?

I just took a stroll around the grounds to get some air and looked up at
where there is a huge tank, which I presumed was for water, about 30
feet up on a tower. Popping out of the tank like a jack-in-the-box was
one of the maintenance guys who works here. I asked him what he was
doing and he said, with a big grin on his face,"need make a sander!" I
had no idea what he was talking about, but told him to be careful up
there and continued my stroll. On my way back around, I saw one of the
guys from the cafeteria had climbed up there as well, and the two were
talking. It made me wonder, this being Ethiopia and all, if the tank
wasn't full of coffee. If so, maybe the mechanic had been saying, "needs
milk and sugar"?! That's unlikely, but you never know around here.

VW rumor

I see a lot of VW "bugs" being driven around Addis Ababa; Ethiopians excel keeping cars running for decades. In these times of economic and environmental consciousness, that's a good tradition to uphold. The term renewables isn't necessarily limited to energy sources, but also the objects we rely on. Nevertheless, it reminds me of a rumor I heard recently that VW is developing a vehicle that actually runs on doo-doo and has been dubbed the "dung beetle". Given Ethiopia's penchant for classics--and that car would indeed be an instant classic--and what with all the donkeys and goats around here, I'm sure it would be an instant hit. My only concern is what kind of gas would come out the tailpipe.

Virus at the Ministry

Yesterday we went to one of the Ministries for a meeting and I received
some files that I needed from one of the staff. I was hoping against the
odds that his computer wouldn't have any viruses, since they quickly
reveal themselves on a USB flash drive. He even scanned my drive before
adding the files to make sure mine was clear, but later as I went to
retrieve the files, I scanned the drive and sure enough, a virus was
detected. I don't know what kind of virus it was, and my software
managed to quarantine it, but this one was named "Big Daddy". I'm
expecting the next one could very well be named "Martin Lawrence".

Ohm's Law

Yesterday the power went out at the training center and we were told
that it probably wouldn't be back on for the rest of the day. There have
been frequent outages the past week, but since the center has a
generator, the power usually comes back on in a few minutes. However,
the main switch apparently broke on Friday, and the part, we were told,
was too costly. They eventually solved it with a different type of
switch that was a bit more affordable, and power was back near the end
of the day. That still left us "in the dark" for a while, so one of my
Japanese colleagues, who is in charge of the electro-mechanical course,
showed me some graphs of the switch and explained what was wrong based
on Ohm's law. He's an older fellow and has years of experience as a
marine engineer, meaning that he can travel the seven seas and keep a
vessel running in tip-top shape the whole time. He said that as he
studied electro-mechanics, it was easy to memorize the various formulas.
He jotted down KVA is greater than KW, and said it was all explained by
1 equals "V" over "R". He said that he didn't really understand it at
first, but working over the years, "waah", the true meaning was
eventually revealed. There was no specific event, as one might imagine,
where he was intensely focused to keep the ship from going down,
instead, he simply hit upon the connection of all the things he'd
studied like a sudden enlightenment. He explained it well enough and I
felt a bit smarter, but I had to admit, I didn't feel quite enlightened
yet... at that moment, the lights flickered back on, so at least I could
say things seemed a little clearer.

Friendship Rooftop

After catching a flick at the theater downtown, I spent the rest of my Sunday afternoon at a rooftop restaurant atop the Friendship Shopping Center. I'd been shopping there many times before, but I'd never ventured up to the rooftop to check out the eateries, although I'd been told they weren't half bad. I was surprised to find quite a nice restaurant at the top of the stairs, but as I just wanted to sit back, drink a beer and page through a magazine, so I decided to check out the other places up there. To the left was another restaurant and to the right was an covered eating area, which I opted for. Just beyond that was an arcade game center, but I decided to leave that for another rainy day. I found an open table and took it, pulling out the heavy, metal patio chair and sitting down. I noticed that the glass tabletop was cracking in places, but was holding together well enough. Half the table was covered in rain as it was placed a little too close to the edge of the canopy above, but I sat on the dry side of course. I ordered a St. George and read through my magazine, periodically glancing over at the television showing a soccer game, and around the dining area at the patrons. One table looked like a group of siblings, two teenage girls and their younger brother (?), sharing a pizza; the two girls talked while the guy listened to music on a pair of square-shaped headphones. Another table was obviously a double-date, which, judging from the giggling, seemed to be going well. Behind me was a group of adults who looked like they'd been there for a while. Yet another table was two guys, maybe in their early 20s, with their eyes glued to the television set. After a while, I'd finished my magazine and my glass of beer and asked for the check. As I waited for my change, one customer knocked over an orange Fanta and the bottle broke all over the floor. He looked down, either too arrogant or too embarrassed to move, as the waitresses mobilized to clean it up.

The biggest laugh

I spent a rainy Sunday afternoon at the movie theater, electing to see a comedy, Grown Ups, starring Adam Sandler, Chris Rock, among others. The theater was packed with friends, teenage couples and families, who were all laughing at the one-liners, goofy facial expressions and outrageous antics happening on-screen. I was surprised that the movie didn't feature any subtitles, and despite the slang, the audience seemed completely up-to-speed. The biggest laugh, however, didn't need to be accompanied by any dialogue; the audience burst into hysterics when one character torpedoes down a water slide and, afterward, we're flashed a shot of his swim shorts sunken up his heiny. 

Rainy season fashion

It's the rainy season in Ethiopia, but that doesn't stop people from
going outside. There are plenty of people walking with umbrellas, but
also construction workers who continue to dig, rain or shine, as they
are. When there is a lull in the downpour, people walk to and fro, some
avoiding the puddles, others stomping right through, and others walking
delicately through the shallow part, holding their pants legs so they
don't get the cuffs wet. When the rain begins to drizzle down again,
some people walk with their hoods up, others walk a little
faster--although no one seems to run--and still others, deciding that
partially dry is better than not, cover their hair with plastic bags and
walk in the rain like it's the new fashion. And since it seems to be
common enough, I suppose you could say it is.

iFruit Shop

While walking around in town today, I passed a electronics store that
had a big white apple in front. Although I know Addis is on the up-n-up,
I was surprised to find that it joined the ranks of global locations for
that particular fruit stand. Upon closer examination, although they do
seem to sell the iPhone, they also sell the iFone. I didn't bother
looking for the Genius Bar.

Second Impression

While having drinks at Stockholm, I asked D and A how they were liking Addis Ababa. They both live in Nairobi, Kenya and were just in town for a few days while they renewed their visas. "A" said that he was really enjoying it, except that he had his wallet stolen ten minutes out of the hotel! I was surprised and saddened to hear it, but A seemed to be taking it in stride. He said that in Nairobi, which is much more developed, you have to keep your guard up constantly to avoid any shady characters. But Addis, they both felt, was a small, cosmopolitan city, yet friendly and safe. "Maybe it was the modern airport, the hotel shuttle bus and friendly staff, but I just felt totally safe," he said. As an experienced traveler, A said it was a rookie mistake, "a group of kids came up to us as we were walking along, and I should have known." Luckily, he had put his valuables in the hotel safe and his wallet only had one credit card and some cash. They were able to cancel the card immediately and exchange more cash later, but he said the biggest disappointment was, "I'd really liked that wallet." It's sort of ironic that their very first impression of Addis Ababa was mostly positive, only to have the next impression negate that somewhat. Addis is not a city of violent crime, but petty crime is to be expected in any city, especially in a developing country, and one with as many people in poverty as Ethiopia. They ended up reporting the crime and, with their exceedingly positive attitude, said that it was kind of interesting to spend some time in an Ethiopian police station, and all the officers were friendly and apologetic. The next day they even had plans to go to Merkato, the large market on the west side of the city where one can reportedly buy anything from spices to camels to a left shoe. There are plenty of touts lurking about Merkato, but I guess that meant there was a chance A would be able to buy his wallet back if he found the right stall.

Stockholm, Ethiopia

The day I arrived in Addis Ababa, I had plans to meet with some
acquaintances, D and A, for dinner somewhere in town. Since they were
staying down on Bole Road, the main strip, I took a taxi down to meet
them. They said they'd be at a restaurant called Stockholm, near the
Friendship Shopping Center. In the past year and a half that I'd been
visiting Addis, I've gone to a lot of restaurants, but I'd never heard
of one called Stockholm, especially on Bole Road, so I called Dereje and
asked him if he knew it. He said he didn't, but would ask around and
call me back. Five minutes later, Dereje called to tell me that the only
one he could think of was a place called Amsterdam over by Meskel
Square. I knew that wasn't it, so I thanked him for checking around and
called back D and asked for better directions. "It's across the street
from Lime Tree cafe, and there's a yellow sign out front." So I took a
taxi down to Lime Tree, and then looked around; it was dark on that side
of the street, but I made out a small, dark blue sign that said
Stockholm, saying that it was on the first floor of the Dabi Building,
which was on the corner. I walked to the corner, and up the side road,
where I found Stockholm, which did indeed have a yellow sign above the
door. There were no customers seated on the first floor, so I climbed
the steps leading up to a bar-loft, and I found D and A sitting up there
in the back sipping drinks. I joined them and ordered a St. George. They
had ordered food, but A, who had been to the real Stockholm many times,
said that there was nothing even remotely Swedish on the menu. It was
obvious that the decor of the place was hardly influenced by anything
outside of Addis. Nevertheless, the atmosphere was great; a softly lit
bar with a food menu, and low tables surrounded by comfortable sofas and
chairs, and plenty of locals socializing around us.
The next day when Dereje asked me if I'd found Stockholm, I told him I
had, but wondered why it was named as such. He said that, like
Amsterdam, there are plenty of restaurants and bars around town owned by
people who'd spent time overseas "in exile" during the Socialist years
of the 70s and 80s, and the owners of Stockholm had probably been in
Sweden. I don't know when they managed to establish their restaurant,
and it's understandable that the signboard for the Embassy of Mozambique
slightly covers their small sign on Bole, but in the end, it was nice to
see a bit of Scandinavian flavor in the Sub-Sahara.

Road Work

Yesterday I moved to a slightly larger room in my hotel which faces the
street. It can be interesting to look out the window and see what is
going on in front of the hotel. The street widens into a separate lane
for local traffic that starts near the hotel. Near the entrance of the
separate lane, the street seems in serious need of repair since there is
a gaping hole protruding from the curb. However, if cars slow down and
stay to the left a bit, they can avoid getting jostled around. To assist
drivers in keeping safe, two young guys took it upon themselves to guide
traffic to slow down and stay to the left, one of them standing in the
hole in the road, and the other one standing on the driver's side of the
road to collect tips. It's a bit entrepreneurial, but since enough cars
roll down their windows and pass along some change, it seems to be a
lucrative social service.

Thinking out of the box

One of the students in the computer lab was thinking out of the box
today. The computers are set on the floor, so he had the mouse cord
running up the front of the desk, and was using it so the buttons were
facing him. He did look a little befuddled as to why when he moved the
mouse left, the cursor went to the right.

Sweater in August

It was a nice change to arrive in Addis, where the temperature is cool
during the rainy season. Tokyo was in the 30s (that's the 90s for you
Fahrenheiters) every day for the past week or two, and today I am
wearing a sweater in August. I wore long sleeves to the airport in
Tokyo, and was hot even on the air-conditioned train to the airport. The
air in the planes was cool though, and blankets on the flights kept me
warm during the trip. So upon arrival, I felt like I was finally in
perfect weather. It was such a relief that I don't even mind the
overcast skies; maybe I'll give the sun the cold shoulder for a bit.

Enjoy getting there

I arrived yesterday back in Addis Ababa for a slightly extended stay. I used to fly from Tokyo Narita and have to transfer at Osaka Kansai to Dubai and then Addis Ababa, but Emirates recently started direct flights from Narita to Dubai, so one less transfer was nice. The 10-hour Narita-Dubai flight wasn't full and the seat next to mine was open, so I had a little extra space, free use of both arm rests... that sort of thing. In the Skywards Magazine in the seat-back pocket, they had some tips on how to improve your travel experience. That reminded me of some tips I'd recently introduced at my Toastmasters club last month.
For instance, when waiting in the security line at the airport, put all your personal belongings in one of the side pockets of your carry-on luggage. That makes it a lot easier going through the line since you don't have to gather all your valuables afterward and try to put yourself back together as other travelers are passing through as well. Other common sense points are to wear pants that don't require a belt and shoes that are easy to slip on and off, etc.
Also, I always look online what meals and drinks will be available on my flight, and a general idea of what movies I might watch so that I can sit back and enjoy the time. When the flight attendant asked me this time if I wanted the "Western or the Japanese meal", I knew that meant chicken or fish, and I'd already decided (on the grilled chicken breast with steamed vegetables and gratin potatoes). Lastly, I also found another reason to check-in online prior to your flight. I'd done so, and even though I hadn't printed out my ticket (I had luggage to check anyway), I was ushered through an express line for people who'd finished the process online and confirmed their seats already. What would have been about 45 minutes in line turned out to be 5, and I spent the rest of the time browsing the duty free shops.
The only problem was that I probably should have slept a little more during my layover in Dubai (didn't want to sleep through last call for boarding), or not watched two movies on the following flight (both were good though: The Joneses with David Dochoveny and Demi Moore, and Itao Itsuji's the King of Jailbreakers--Datsugoku-Ō). Emirate's Skywards Magazine said it takes about 1 day for each time zone you pass through to adjust to jet-lag, and I passed through seven!